


Spider Silk

by thelittlepalmtree



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Fix-It, Nonbinary Character, new black widow, secret empire fix it, there will be some buckynat if possible
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-18 00:24:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12377163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelittlepalmtree/pseuds/thelittlepalmtree
Summary: A young non-binary person accidentally receives a video file from the late Natasha Romanoff. After watching it she is determined to find the person it belongs to, keeping the late Black Widow's instructions for being the world's greatest spy in her mind. However, this journey turns out to be more difficult than she thought as more than one organization wants what is essentially Black Widow's last words, and not everyone is willing to leave Michiru alive to get them. Can she navigate the dangerous web the world's greatest spy left behind for someone else? And can she separate friend from foe?





	Spider Silk

**Author's Note:**

> There is more information about Michiru, who she is, her pronouns, and her design at the end of this.

It was one of those sorts of days, like the wizard of Oz movie before Dorothy goes over the rainbow. The world seemed parched for color, and it seemed like it was going to rain. Michiru ran into the house, clutching her mail to her chest. She opened the envelopes, once upon a time there might have been bills but she paid all of that online now. So instead there were just a few flyers about an upcoming election and some spam mail from the local department store. And then something fell into her hand. It was small and black and it took her a second to realize it was a drive.   
“Do people even use these anymore?” She wondered aloud. There was a small red hourglass symbol at the bottom. Michiru would have recognized it anywhere as the symbol of Natasha Romanoff, the “Black Widow” aka her favorite superhero ever.   
She ran her fingers through her short cropped hair and decided to plug it in. She wasn’t an idiot so she used her dinosaur of a computer that she never actually used for official business and decided to take the risk. A sandwich and chips later the thing had finally turned on and loaded the drive.   
“Curiouser and curiouser,” Michiru said quietly as she saw what was on it. One video file. She clicked on it because of course and her heart stopped.   
Sitting in what looked like a run-down cabin on an old musty couch with a bottle of vodka and a glass in front of her was the late Natasha Romanoff. She was more beautiful than Michiru could have imagined, with short red hair and a hardened face. Something in the back of Michiru’s mind whispered that watching this video could be dangerous, that she could be entering into some sort of Avengers business, but that voice was quiet when compared to the pure glee she felt at seeing her hero’s face again.   
“Miles.” Natasha said, the faintest of Russian accents on her lips. “I know I’ve been…hard on you. I’m just that kind of woman, but the truth is all our friends are dead.” She looked pensively at the bottle of vodka in front of her and poured herself another glass which she then downed immediately. “And now it’s time to harden you children so you can do what we heroes never did.”   
Michiru paused the video, feeling that she was intruding on some intimate moment. While all the other kids liked Captain America, Iron Man, and even Captain Marvel, Michiru had one role model. Natasha Romanoff. There was something about her, her quest for truth, her constant command of any situation. No one really knew that much about her, but her career was somewhat well known. She’d been around decades longer, had trysts with just about anyone that mattered, and was even the leader of the Avengers at one point. She was beautiful, powerful, mysterious. What wasn’t to love?   
But this was not the public Natasha. This was… “all my friends are dead and I’m about to die too” Natasha. Michiru reached out and touched the screen, and not for the first time, shed a tear for the Black Widow. Someone had to watch this and figure out what was going on. So Michiru pressed play.   
“Here’s the thing, kid.” Natasha continued, placing the glass back on the desk, “I can feel it in my bones, this is my last fight. So I need to leave something behind…because there are things I’ve done that no one else could. Yelena is gone…Bucky is gone…the world needs a spy. So here it is, kid. My how-to-manual. How to be the Black Widow…”   
By the time the file finished playing, Michiru had no idea if it had been five minutes or five years. One thing she did know. She was going to New York. 

Michiru packed up her things, she had three laptops, a few tablets and only one smart-phone but about five burners. A neither-girl-nor-boy has to eat after all and it’s tough to get a job in ohio when you’re non-binary and have pink hair, but that’s a story for a later date. On top of that she had to bring clothes, something that would help her fit in in New York was probably something that would completely stand out in Carthage Ohio.   
“The key to blending in is to know when to stick out.” Natasha had said, “But remember to stick out in the wrong way. If they’re looking for a redheaded woman, become a six-foot-tall bald man.”   
Michiru wondered if she should buy some wigs from the party store or something, they were at a discount given that it was November fifth. She decided against it, as wearing a fake wig was probably worse than having pink hair. Transitioning from man to woman at the drop of a dime though, that was something she could do.   
So in a few hours she was driving to the airport, a ticket for New York in her hand—well it was a pdf which was on her phone which was right next to her hand in the cup holder. That was the nice thing about working from home, taking a vacation was a lot easier.   
She went through the airport somewhat easily, although security didn’t really know what to make of her. She was kind of used to it, after all, people were usually pretty hesitant to touch her. It was when she was waiting by the gate with a bright blue slushie to match her bright pink hair that the action happened.   
A man and a woman came up to her. They wore bad suits and the woman’s hair had been so over-bleached it looked like a wig made of straw. She was chewing gum loudly and beneath her box-like clothes, Michiru could see she was built. Next to her was a balding man with a beer gut and a similarly boxy suit. He looked like he was one week away from retirement.   
“I don’t know what you want from me, Rothko,” The woman said, popping a bubble in her gum. She stretched out like a man on the seat and looked over at Michiru beneath her starchy bangs. “I don’t like weirdoes using my bathroom. I mean if you’re not a woman you shouldn’t be in the lady’s room.”   
“Because you’re such a lady,” Rothko said with a gruff chuckle. Michiru tried to hide behind her slushie a little. This conversation was so loud and so obviously directed at her…what exactly was the point?   
“Listen,” Not-Rothko said, “I’ll just say it, if any he-she tries to walk in while I’m takin’ a piss, I’ll shoot ‘em right there on the spot.” That seemed a little harsh to Michiru.   
“I didn’t say nothin’ about it.” Rothko responded. “Look, I say leave the politics for the President. That’s his job.”   
“And don’t we have our man in there?” Haystack-Hair chuckled, giving another pointed glare at Michiru, “Yeah, they got rid of ol’ green and gold but they sure didn’t get rid of our man D—”   
“Now, Now, don’t tell me you liked hydra!” Rothko interjected, sounding disapproving. “My grandfather fought in world war two you know! Hydra is just un…UnAmerican.”   
“Well, of course,” Too Blonde for Conditioner said, leaning back in her chair again, “But listen, they got all those freaks out didn’t they?” She looked over at him with a smirk, “The perverts, the mutants, the weirdoes. Damn I could walk down the street and feel almost safe.”   
“I don’t know Pollack,” Rothko looked a little hurt by her statement, “I’m an American. And some stuff is just…not right.”   
Pollack gave Michiru another pointed look. This was obviously a show for her, though she couldn’t figure out why. It was the Midwest but in general people were polite enough to leave their bigotry for whispering or hushed conversations. What’s more Rothko and Pollack didn’t seem to be from around here.   
“Hey,” Pollack said, nodding at Michiru, “I like your hair.”   
“Thank you.” She said, biting her bottom lip, “I like it too….”   
“Where’d you get it done?” Michiru clutched the thumb-drive in her pocket.   
“I uh…I did it myself.”   
“What do you think about all this?” Pollack said, “The freaks in the bathroom.”   
“Um…I don’t really think about it,” That was a lie, Michiru thought about it all the time, but this lady was obviously clocking her as a specific gender and probably had her own issues of sexuality given the extremely predatory lesbian vibes she was radiating.   
“You seem like a nice girl,” Pollack said, “When we get to New York there’s going to be shemales everywhere. It’s disgusting.”   
“Come on Polly, lay off the kid.” Rothko grunted in a way that just seemed so very Rothko. Michiru was already imagining the horribly chauvinist noir parody comic strip about them.   
“What? We’re just talking…” She leaned forward and grinned at Michiru with pointed teeth. She leaned back in her chair as far as she could. “Better watch yourself girlie.”   
“Uh….” But she never had to finish her sentence because it was time to board the plane.   
The flight attendant scanned her boarding pass with a robotically angelic smile, “Thankyou for choosing Stark Airlines, we hope you enjoy your stay in New York.”   
“Thanks,” Michiru said, biting her bottom lip, “Me too….”

**Author's Note:**

> So I have long desired for Natasha to have a "next generation" Black Widow. I created Michiru to be that person. I created her to be non-binary with female pronouns for many reasons. The first is that I think it makes a great space for her to fit into Natasha's story. Natasha frequently traversed gender lines in order to disguise herself, and what better spy is there than someone who has a deep critical understanding of gender and present as either one at their convenience? I am personally cisgendered, which does appropriate the experience a little. I am open to suggestions, however, the fact that Michiru is non-binary does not define her character, it is merely a feature of it, this story is not about her being non-binary, because I'm not entitled to write that story. I also felt it was important for her to have female pronouns because Black Widows do embody femininity in a certain way while Michiru does not identify solely as a woman, I kept her pronouns female as a slight nod to the history of the black widow character. Michiru' also chose her name, and she is Half-Chinese and Half-Russian. I wanted to incorporate the history of Asian Communism into the story. Russia and China had a very tense history and the poverty levels of both nations created a very vulnerable population, I'd like to explore that with Michiru. You may be thinking "isn't Michiru a Japanese name"? Yes it is, and believe me I hesitated to but a sailor moon reference into this story. However according to www.behindthename.com there is a form of Michiru that means "truth" and the name Michiru can be nonbinary. This is Michiru's chosen name, not given name, so I figured that she'd be willing to use a Japanese name that had a meaning she valued. She could also describe herself as "Mitch" on days she was feeling particularly masculine, and whatnot. I tried to craft this character carefully to be the perfect compliment to Natasha's Black Widow. As I said, I am open to suggestions and criticisms, but at the end of the day she is MY character and I will write her in the best way I can while trying to remain socially conscious.


End file.
